Profile of Retribution: FBI Profiler Romantic Suspense (Profile Series #3) (15 page)

Robynn waited for a moment and then asked, “You appear angry, Kaitlyn. Are you?”

“Damn right, I’m angry. Thanks to those little bastards, I will never see or talk to my sister again. Have you ever lost someone you loved to violence?”

“No, I haven’t.”

Kaitlyn’s eyes filled with tears. Her chin quivered and she swallowed hard. “Then you cannot possibly understand. Sometimes all you can do is cry and grieve. You become so sad you don’t recognize yourself. At other times, you are so angry you want to hit something. It isn’t fair Evan and Devan died before going through the justice system. There is a void for us now that will never be filled. If there is such a thing as closure, we were denied that.”

“What about the other members of your support group? Are they angry, too? If so, how do they express their anger at meetings?”

“Are you asking me what they talk about at the meetings?”

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

Kaitlyn bristled. “If you want to know what makes them angry or sad, ask them. I won’t violate their privacy like that. What is said at those meetings is confidential, which is why people are so open to sharing. It’s unfair to ask me to talk about their pain. I can’t believe you and Cam have them listed as your damn suspects. Seriously?”

“We have reason to believe that the person who is harassing Tisha and Bradley Lucas is a member of your support group.”

“Well, their names have never come up in meetings, if that helps. Their sons’ names, yes.”

“How do you feel about the Lucas couple?”

“Sympathy. Pity. They not only lost their sons, they have to live with the shame of knowing the crimes their boys committed. I put myself in their places. What would I do if the children I adored committed horrific acts against other people? I’m not sure I could handle that, and I wonder how Tisha and Bradley are coping. But am I angry with them for raising two murderers? Do I hate them because their sons killed my sister? No. I think they loved their sons and did the best they could to raise them to be good men. What was broken in their sons was not something that was their fault.”

Robynn nodded. She didn’t believe for a minute that Kaitlyn Reece was capable of the kind of hatred and anger being aimed at Tisha and Bradley Lucas. But her job was to interview her, so her questions continued. “I have to ask you where you were on April tenth.”

“Is that the date the bloody rock was thrown through their front window?”

“Yes.”

Dark and hot, Kaitlyn’s eyes narrowed. “It’s insulting that you would think I threw a bloody rock through anyone’s window. I’m a third grade teacher, not a discus-throwing vandal.”

Robynn got out a notepad and ink pen. “I have to ask the question.”

“I had parent-teacher conferences that ran late and then I met Gabe for dinner at Mollie’s Cafe. Her daughter, Hailey, waited on our table. We had the roast beef dinner special. Anything else you want to know?”

“A couple more dates. Do you remember what you were doing on April seventeenth?”

“Undoubtedly, that’s the date of Bradley and Tisha’s mailbox fire. I was home alone grading papers and watching television. Gabe was doing surveillance for a new client, and Cam wasn’t home. Wait a minute, Godiva was here with me. She can account for my whereabouts.”

Robynn ignored the sarcasm, and jotted the information down. “The Bradley business offices were vandalized yesterday. I trust you were teaching at the elementary school.”

“Yes. I can produce twenty-eight third grade witnesses if you like.”

Slipping the notepad into her briefcase, Robynn prepared to leave. “That won’t be necessary.”

Moving toward the door, she stopped and glanced back at Kaitlyn. “I’m sorry about your sister, Kaitlyn. And I’m sorry I had to ask you these questions. I hope you understand it’s a part of my job to help Cameron remove you as a suspect.”

Kaitlyn stood with her arms crossed defensively across her chest, saying nothing, her dog alert by her side.

Closing the door quietly behind her, Robynn descended the front porch steps and headed to her car, only to see a tall, hard-muscled man leaning against her front car door.

“Well, if it isn’t Sergeant Cameron Chase. Couldn’t you wait until I wrote my report about Kaitlyn’s interview?”

An easy smile played at the corners of his mouth as his dark eyes swept over her appreciably. “If I waited for the report, I wouldn’t get to see you.”

Finding it impossible not to return his disarming smile, she felt a warm glow flow through her body. Feelings she shouldn’t have bubbled just below the surface, and if she weren’t careful, she’d find herself in his arms. Over time, Cameron Chase had communicated his attraction to her loud and crystal-clear, making her extremely conscious of his virile appeal. It took everything she had to fight that pull.

Acting on her attraction to Cameron Chase could be perilous to the career she’d worked so hard to build. Five percent of the state police demographics were female. That meant Robynn had had to work especially hard to get where she was with the male-dominated law enforcement organization. Starting out as a trooper, she’d had to prove herself repeatedly as she worked her way up to sergeant, supervising a team of detectives.

Robynn credited the first key element of her success as her ability to defuse potentially violent situations with her communication skills. It was a skill many of her male counterparts did not possess, and upper management took note.

The second key element of her success was her ability to steer clear of personal involvements at work. Law enforcement was a tight community, in many ways like a family. This worked for and against female officers. Extremely private, she kept herself out of the rumor mill, and had a personal code against dating men in law enforcement. While it was essential that male officers had her back, it was critical that they viewed her as someone who could hold her own and had their back in return.

Robynn gave herself a mental shake and got down to business. “You can take Kaitlyn Reece off your suspect list, if she was ever on it.”

“You’re right. I never seriously considered Kaitlyn our revenge vandal, but she had to be interviewed. The media would have had a field day if they ever discovered I didn’t have someone interviewed because she was a family member.”

“But she’s not really a family member yet.”

“Close enough. My brother is nuts about her and eager to get her to the altar. I like her very much, and I just hope she’ll stop being so pissed at me soon. Makes for an uncomfortable home life.”

“Speaking of homes, yours is beautiful. The house is great, but the land is incredible. It reminds me of Deer Run State Park. I like to go hiking there when I have time.”

“Did Gabe tell you we have three hundred acres of woods, complete with small streams and a lake? Great place to hike.” Cameron moved aside and opened her front door.

“Hand me your things.” Once he placed her briefcase on the passenger seat, he closed the door. Cameron held out his hand to her.

Robynn stepped back. “What are you doing?”

“You like to hike, and I want to show you the grounds. C’mon. We have miles of trails. I bet you can’t remember the last time you were able to enjoy a spring day as beautiful as this one. You’re probably stuck inside as much as I am, behind your desk with paperwork.”

He was right. The unrelenting caseload had kept her in the office for so long, she couldn’t remember the last time she was in actual sunlight, instead of the glare of fluorescent lighting. She should say no. Being alone with Cameron Chase was not on her list of good ideas. But before she could refuse, he grasped her hand and led her toward the back of the house.

“Okay, but I can’t stay long. I have to get back to the office.” She liked, maybe too much, the feel of the calluses on his palms and fingers as he gripped her fingers. The mere touch of his hand made her skin tingle, so she pulled hers away and stuck it in her trouser pocket.

In the large backyard were four square areas where the dark soil had been tilled. “What are you doing here?” Robynn asked.

“We’re creating a salad, herb and flower garden. Kaitlyn’s idea. We each spend time on it before and after work and on weekends. It’s a good way to add fresh organic fruits and vegetables to our meals. We’re waiting until mid-May to plant so we avoid the frost.”

“What a great idea. Kaitlyn told me how you take turns cooking and have meals together. I envy that.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized she’d opened the door to questions about her private life.

“Oh, yeah? Didn’t your family eat meals together?”

“When we could.” Quickly changing the subject, she asked, “Is that the Honeymoon Cottage over there?”

“Who told you about the Honeymoon Cottage?” He led her to the driveway, where they walked toward the heavily windowed A-frame house.

“Gabe. He said your father built it as a wedding present for your mother.”

“He did. My parents were very devoted to each other. My mom was devastated when we lost Dad. But she picked herself up, went to the police academy, worked hard, and became Shawnee County’s first female sheriff.”

She glanced at Cameron. “That’s impressive. I didn’t know that. That’s quite an accomplishment for a woman in her time.”

An unnamed emotion swirled in Cameron’s eyes.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Not at all. We’re proud of Mom’s achievements, but mostly we just miss her.”

Robynn searched her brain for comforting words, but came up empty. She couldn’t relate. Her mother was the last person she missed.

“What about your mom?” Cameron asked. “Did she work outside the home?”

There it was, the unavoidable question that dived right into her private life—an off-limit area. She panicked a little. She’d let none of the men she worked with get close enough to even ask the questions. Cameron Chase was different, and that she thought of him that way made her even more anxious. Was he a man she could trust? There was so much at risk.

Flicking a glance at him, she turned so she didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t like to talk about my family.”

Cameron looked as though he were weighing her statement in his mind, but his eyes were filled with questions. He was a detective whose job was to satisfy his curiosity. She’d made him more curious than before he asked the question. Did she really expect him to let it go?

Cameron brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, and she backed up slightly from his touch. “I understand. There are parts of my background that I don’t like to talk about. But one thing I can promise you, whatever we discuss stays in the vault.”

“The vault?”

His eyes brimming with warmth and understanding, Cameron explained, “Ever watch
Seinfeld
re-runs? The vault is where you put confidences that remain strictly between you and the person you tell. If whatever is discussed between us should remain confidential, it’s put in our vault.”

Robynn’s chin quivered as she swallowed hard. Trusting a man was a first and alarming step to take. But there was something about
this
man that was honest and special. “I don’t know much about my biological mother, except what I’ve read in her criminal records. She was a drug addict and a prostitute who put the drugs she craved ahead of caring for her small child. I was a year old when the state took me away from her.”

“I’m sorry.”

Her chin up, she turned to him. “I don’t need your pity. The child protective agency probably saved my life. It got much better for me after that. I was sent to live with my foster parents, Eddie and Barb Burton. They couldn’t have children of their own, so I was their last chance to have a family. They’re a loving couple who adopted me as soon as they could.”

“Sounds like my kind of people.”

They’d reached the Honeymoon Cottage and Cameron led her to the outdoor living area at the side of the house. The covered space was filled with heavy wood furniture and soft cushions, a stone fireplace, and a wrought-iron dining table and chairs. Close to the house was a stainless steel grill and a full outdoor kitchen.

Robynn headed for the wooden sofa lined with soft cushions and a half dozen colorful outdoor pillows. Plopping down, she exclaimed, “This space is amazing. I love it. Do you mind if we sit a while?”

Grinning, Cameron fell into a chair near her. “Not at all. This happens to be one of my favorite places on the property. This is where we share meals when the weather is good.” He checked his watch. “I’m getting hungry. How about if I make us some lunch?”

“Oh, I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

“Seriously? When it comes to food, it’s never trouble for me. Do BLTs sound good?”

When she nodded, he moved to the cooking area, slipped a chef apron over his black slacks and snug-fitting T-shirt, and then pulled out a package of bacon, a ripe red tomato, some lettuce, bread, and a jar of mayonnaise from the refrigerator. Robynn moved to the bar so she could watch him as he cooked. Soon the bacon sizzled and she smelled the comforting scent of the salty meat frying. There was something about an impossibly handsome man cooking for her that was utterly sexy, and a spike of sexual energy caught her low in the gut. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so attracted to a man.